


There You Are

by wendyindahouse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Confessions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Human Castiel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 20:10:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1577954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendyindahouse/pseuds/wendyindahouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They find Cas eventually, after days of searching.  Endless days of frantic, clawing anxiety that Dean desperately tries to hide; endless days spent chasing down one lead after another, hope slowly draining away and fear and despair constricting his heart.</p><p>An alternative to 9x03 where none of the awful stuff happens, and Dean has to teach Cas to shave</p>
            </blockquote>





	There You Are

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted over on [my tumblr](http://poorneautifuldean.tumblr.com)

They find him eventually, after days of searching.  Endless days of frantic, clawing anxiety that Dean desperately tries to hide; endless days spent chasing down one lead after another, hope slowly draining away and fear and despair constricting his heart.

When they finally find him, he’s huddled in a doorway - dirty, hungry, alone - dressed in threadbare clothing scavenged from who knows where, and Dean’s initial joy is wrenched away by the sheer defeat etched in the lines of his face.  A face that is human now, pain and suffering already imprinted in its countenance, days-worth of scruff obscuring the features Dean knows as well as the back of his hand.  He is Castiel, and yet also not.

More days pass in a flurry of chaos amidst vengeful angels, some successfully avoided, some fought and defeated.  Long days of strained silences broken only by sparse words and terse exchanges that leave everyone tense and no-one satisfied as they make their way back to the bunker.  Yet more days spent tiptoeing around each other as Cas withdraws further and further, first into himself, then ultimately into the tiny room he has made his own.

Of course Dean is the one who eventually snaps.  He has tried to be patient, to give Cas time and space, but he cannot wait any longer, cannot take another day of the churning unease in his gut or the insidious, fretful disquiet that makes his skin crawl in Cas’ continued absence.

”Damn it Cas!  You can’t stay in there forever” he barks, fist pounding on a door that remains resolutely closed.  ”I mean it.  I’m not leaving this time.  I’ll just wait right here until you have to use the bathroom”.  

He pauses, listening.  Nothing.  

"You  _are_  leaving to use the bathroom, right?  Please tell me you’re not… doing that… in there”.  

Still nothing.  

He rests his forehead against the cool metal, fist clenched but motionless now, stilled by the thick, oppressive silence.

"Damn it Cas" he repeats, voice muted, cloaked in dejection.  "Why won’t you let me help?   _Why won’t you let me in?_ ”

He stumbles forward as the door finally opens, carried a couple of steps beyond the threshold as the crumpled, dishevelled semblance of Castiel retreats to the cocoon of blankets on the narrow cot.  

"I don’t need help Dean."  

Dean observes for a moment, unsure of his welcome, hovering in the doorway as the metres of bare concrete are stretched to acres by uncertainty.  

"Maybe not.  But you do need a shower and some clean clothes.  Look, I won’t try to make you talk if you don’t want, but you gotta at least look after yourself man."

Cas glances down at himself then back to Dean and Dean feels a pang of guilt when he sees what looks like shame flare in Cas’ eyes before his gaze skitters rapidly away again.  Cas rises wordlessly and moves to stand in front of Dean, eyes downcast, and it takes a moment for Dean to realise Cas is waiting for him to move out of the way.  He steps slowly aside, wanting to reach out and offer a reassuring touch, but the other man flinches as though reading his intentions and Dean’s hand twitches uselessly by his side.  

He watches as Cas heads towards the bathroom with a heavier tread than Dean ever remembers seeing before, as though his humanity somehow weighs on him with every step.

"There’s clean clothes for you on the counter" he calls.  "And hey… have a shave while you’re in there, would you?"

***

It’s a good hour before Cas emerges, but Dean waits regardless, sitting against the wall, lost in thoughts of what he imagines Castiel is going through.  When the door finally opens and Cas steps out amidst a warm, damp rush of steam, he is almost overwhelmed by how  _normal_ Cas looks.  Except for the scruff.

"Dude, don’t tell me you’re attached to keeping that thing?" he protests, seeing that same look of shame flicker in Cas’ eyes before he looks away.  He instantly hates it and thinks he’d give pretty much anything at all to never see it again.

"Cas?" he queries softly.

"I don’t know how to shave Dean" Cas admits, voice small and cowed, something else immediately added to the list of things Dean hates.

"Oh.  Well then I guess it’s time I show you, huh?" he states simply, ushering Cas back into the bathroom.

He gently pushes Cas to sit on the edge of the tub and drags the laundry hamper over for himself while he waits for the sink to fill.  His knees settle on either side of Cas’, whose own knees are clamped tightly together, his hands tangled in his lap.  

Dean squirts shaving foam into his palm, smoothing it slowly onto Cas’ chin and jaw with trembling fingers.  He hasn’t been this close to Cas for a long time, has missed the faint, reassuring warmth of a body that is slightly too close, and he takes a deep breath as he tries to hold the sudden rush of emotion in check.  He tilts Cas’ face away from him slightly as he picks up the razor and dampens it in the sink.  

"So you go with the direction of hair growth first, okay?"  He trails his fingers gently over Cas’ jaw.  "That’s down for you.  Then you gotta be firm, but don’t press too hard, right?"  He drags the razor slowly along Cas’ jaw, rinsing it in the sink before repeating the action.  He turns Cas’ face back towards him as he draws the razor over a new patch of skin.  Cas lets his eyes fall shut, his breathing more relaxed as Dean continues his light strokes.

"Sometimes you need to pull the skin a little taut, to make sure you get a smooth glide, like this" Dean says softly, using his thumb to tighten the skin on the other side of Cas’ jaw and leaning in a little closer as he sweeps the razor over the skin once more.  Cas’ knees fall apart as he continues to relax, nudging against Dean’s own, and he draws a shaky breath at the unexpected contact.  

"You gotta leave your chin and your top lip for last, okay?" he grates out, clearing his throat in an attempt to cover the slight tremor making its way into his voice.  "Gotta let the foam do its work and soften things up a bit".  He pauses a moment then continues more softly. "Sometimes things just need a bit of time, you know?"

Cas’ eyes flicker open, the clear blue gaze fully meeting his own for perhaps the first time since they found him.

"Time?" he queries, voice hoarse, and Dean nods, holding his gaze a moment longer before turning to rinse the razor once more.

"Pull your top lip over your teeth" he prompts gently, before pulling the razor down the tightened skin and moving on to Cas’ chin.  

"You need to lean forward Cas" he encourages, heat rocketing through him as Cas does as he’s told, moving his palms to rest on Dean’s thighs for balance.  He grits his teeth and tries to keep his hand steady as he places the razor back against soft, tan skin.  Cas flinches as Dean drags the razor up and he freezes..

"Shit, did I hurt you?" he asks, frantically trying to get a better look as he sees a tell-tale spot of red bleeding into the white foam.  Cas pulls his chin away, shaking his head.

"It’s fine, Dean.  It’s… it’s good to feel something.  Anything."

Dean gently coaxes his face back round until Cas is looking at him once more.

"I’m going to let that go.  For now" he states calmly.  "Because I promised I wouldn’t make you talk before you were ready.  But we’re gonna come back to that, when you are.  Okay?"

Cas blinks, and his voice is soft but less tentative than before when he eventually replies.

"Okay."

Dean nods, and draws the razor up the underside of Cas’ chin once, twice more, finishing the job.  He takes the towel from his shoulder and carefully wipes the remaining foam from Cas’ face.

"There you are" he whispers, unable to stop the smile that spreads across his face at the sight of Cas,  _his_ Cas.  ”Now you’re back.”

"I never wanted to stay away Dean" Cas confesses.  "I just didn’t know how to come back.  Didn’t know if you’d want…"  His fingers tighten on Dean’s thighs, and it sends fire along every nerve in Dean’s body.  

"I didn’t know if you’d want me to come back like this" Cas admits, voice cracking.  "I thought you might look at me and see just a shell, see…"

"You" Dean interrupts.  "I see  _you_ , Cas.  You’re still there, and I still see you.” 

Their faces are so close he can feel Cas’ breath against his cheek and it feels like Cas is looking right into his soul, just the way it always did.

"I still see you" he whispers, sliding his palm along Cas’ jaw, "and I still need you."

Cas lets out a desperate sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, leaning into Dean’s touch, and Dean closes the distance to capture his mouth in a soft kiss.  It’s chaste - fleeting - the only way Dean knows to convey what he feels.  He pulls back, anxious, but Cas smiles.  It’s a tiny, fragile thing, but it’s there.

Dean leans their foreheads together, thumb stroking over Cas’ cheekbone, and feels rather than hears Cas’ words as they whisper over his skin.

"I need you too Dean."


End file.
